Supergirl: Reversal

Author: Thomas Herald
Time to Read:11min
Views:354 (All Time)
Added Date:12/27/2021
Tags: Wizards Lair Contest 2009Supergirl

Nothing but silence.

She moved without making a sound. The silence pressed down onto her stomach, making it hard to breathe. The smallest movement could give everything away. It was everything or nothing tonight.

Supergirl reached down to her low cut dress and yanked it down just a hair to keep the cold air out, but it was little use. She cursed her luck; why couldn't she have been christened Icegirl instead? Then she could have fought crime in a comfortable parka. This soft, flexible outfit was tight, thin and oh-so-attractive, to be sure, but it certainly didn't do wonders during a cold, bitter night's ambush.

Her hands slowly rose to just below her neck, where the skintight shirt broke across her chest. He had gotten away just before he had thrown a piece of metal at her. She didn't know what it was, and it had disappeared just as quickly as she had dropped, but it had knocked her cleanly off her feet. There wasn't the slightest remnant of a bruise, but the costume was ripped nonetheless.

Pity, she said. She had just gotten the thing made for her twenty-third birthday. It hadn't been cheap, either.

A rustle. Could it be Rosnin?

She had been tracking this young man for hours. He was just an ordinary, blooming business man on the surface, but underneath that cold, solid, sneering face lay an intelligence that held the very underworld of corporate illegality together. And he was a formidable opponent, even for a wily, young and bright superhero like herself. There was apparently more than a few layers to this twenty-eight year old.

She was waiting in an old warehouse where he had been spotted returning to before their brief scuffle. She assumed he has dropped off and hidden some sort of product, knowing that she was on his trail. She had been on ambush for a day or two at this point; he had to come back and claim his latest prize.


What was that?

It was a loud, formidable explosion that sounded several miles off. Her mind was suddenly off the ambush as she jumped from her hiding place and onto the floor. Supergirl dashed into the face of the warehouse to see what was going on, and -



Unbearable pain!

Her mind was swimming through something, coming up, surfacing. It was a trap, something said in her mind. It was a trap, he faked an explosion, and -

Her mind began to clear, and she could feel hands. Two soft, strong hands.

The hands pulled her arms behind her back roughly, joining her wrists together. They then drew a length of rope and tied them quickly, coiling the rope around and layering the bounds.

She couldn't move. He had stunned her somehow; she was paralyzed. It wasn't permanent - otherwise, why would he be tying her up? It didn't matter. Once her muscles came back, she could flex her muscles and the rope would break like rotted string.

The hands continued their work. They pulled a piece of cloth around the back of her head, covering her mouth. they tied the cloth behind her head, and then pulled her golden, shoulder-length hair out and over the cloth. Well, at least they were helping her look good in bondage. Thanks, hands.

Then the hands pulled her into a sitting position, which her muscles stayed inside of in a wobbly fashion. So the hands continued to pull rope around her body. They coiled a six inch tall coil that pulled on her lower ribs. They accented this by pulling a few more loops over the top of her breasts, which forced them outward. The broken seam on her shirt was breaking. The hands assisted it, pulling the seam across her chest and forcing her breasts out of their barely functioning fabric.

The hands seemed to breathe deeper. She couldn't see, but she could feel and hear.

The hands continued their work down, pushing her onto her back roughly.

They pulled her arms even closer together, rapping them around the coiled that already clinched her waist. Then they went to her lower thigh area, tying her legs together. They went down her body methodically, making a few coils that ended up wrapping a few inches of her body each, separating each wrap by a few inches. they pushed her legs together, moving fluidly across her naked, vulnerable legs. They pulled the rope across the legs tightly, drawing the flesh across the harsh, biting rope.

This was very efficient and took less than a few minutes to complete. By the time the hands were complete, she was a sausage. A sexy, beautiful, scantily clad sausage, but a sausage nonetheless.

Her eyes blinked automatically as her vision slowly came back. They focused onto the face of Rosnin without surprise or fear.

"Hello, my darling," he said, his sneering face never changing. "I'm glad to see your back with us."

She breathed deeply. This job doesn't pay nearly enough.

She then proceeded to break the bonds with one stretch of her, wait. something...

They didn't break as she was moving like every other villain's rope had before. She struggled again against the bonds. No give. Her super-heroine muscles barely moved against these ropes. She twisted and turned in the tightly bound threads, but they didn't move.

This wasn't the normal situation. Sometimes she even let the villain capture her and tie her up before proceeding to break loose and unleash bloody murder. This was definitely a change in the plans.

There was no escape.

Rosnin's face proceeded to become more and more gleeful as she struggled against her bonds, writhing on the floor like a worm.

"You won't break free, my darling," he said. "I see you've already met my new invention. I call it Super Metal."

What a creative name, she thought. Seems a bit derivative of something familiar.

"In any case, I have infused this Super Metal with some common, ordinary rope," he stated in a matter of fact fashion, his hands clasping together. "Not only is it stronger than any other metal in existence, it's also a better bane of your success than Kryptonite. And not only this, but I fully intend to bring Super Metal to the common population, with each and every one of them knowing full well what its properties are."

He leaned down to her fallen body, which was still, aside from her heaving chest that strung across the ropes with every breath.

"And you, Supergirl, shall be mine for all eternity," he whispered into her ear. "So, shall we dance?"

He pulled her up from the floor with an effortless tug, and her body flopped against the powerful ropes. He then shifted her weight once she was vertical, and pushed her backwards into a beam that stretched from the ceiling of the warehouse. He then pulled out some more rope from his inside jacket pocket and bound her to the post, pulling her tightly in addition to the already formidable ropes she was tied with.

She again attempted to struggle as his hands passed along her smooth flesh. But it was no use. He wrapped around her again and again and passed behind her and around the metal post. Then we went behind her and pulled it all tight, and she expelled air from her nose.

He passed back into her frame of view.

"Having fun yet?" he asked, and pulled off the cloth covering her mouth with one smooth movement.

She spit into the air a few times, to get the cloth from her mouth.

"You'll never get away with this," she said bitterly. "Once I get free - "

"See, that's the thing," he said, interrupting her slowly. "I've already forced your downfall."

He dropped the cloth onto the floor and paced around the post slowly, his black shoes barely making a tap on the cold warehouse floor.

"Now every criminal in town has a weapon against you they didn't previously have," he said, moving. "This moves the balance. Once you came, this town was suddenly thrown into chaos."

"I brought meaning and justice to this city," she spat as he passed her. His smile spoke volumes.

"You wouldn't have known, I assume, with your superhero life," he said. "I wasn't been a target of yours when you first arrived, so I noticed. Society changed. People changed. Some people would shoot down the highway, twenty miles on the speed limit for no reason, while others would barely move in a fifty-five zone. Entire corporations changed their business plans to follow long standing laws they had neglected to remember for years. Retailers found that shoppers spend less since your arrival now. There's less money entirely."

"That's a lie," she said. "There's more money than ever now."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you," he said. "But this is why I became a criminal mastermind - the world needs an underworld to support the over-world. This city was stagnating under your reign. People were slowing down, as if they had no purpose. The economy began to crumble."

He placed his fingers over his mouth, the rest of his fingers clasped, as he walked and continued.

"The problem is twofold. Our country is built upon capitalism - a grab-it-all-for-yourself society if I've ever seen one. This world, this country, has been stagnant and festering with untreated wounds for years. Crime is now a given part of our nation, where success, just pure, legal, unrivaled success, simply isn't good enough anymore. People need that further drive to push themselves, a new wealth to obtain, a new gizmo to tinker with a brag about to the next door neighbors. We have no interest in our next door neighbors or the laws that have been set in place. these are only barriers to which we will knock over in our rush for more wealth. Once legal wealth has been obtained, there is only one way we can still go - up.

"Capitalism as a philosophy assumes that if society will madly scramble and sprint to the finish line, we will be ahead in the end. But that's the problem - there is no end. It just keeps going. By the time we've gotten to where we are, we've knocked out ninety-nine percent of the race thanks to greedy schemes and dirty tricks. Eventually we'll suddenly stop, dazed, wondering where we run to next."

He turned to his bound captive and stroked her cheek, and and try as she could, she could not recoil from his touch. She could not move in her bondage. Her hands balled into fists behind her back, pressing and shifting only a little into the metal bar.

"And you, my darling," he said softly. "You toppled this city into a glorious oblivion. The only 'up' capitalism ever had was illegal money grabbing. And you killed it. You didn't just whack it a few times, or send it to jail. You killed it, and left it bleeding on the floor for everyone to see."

He leaned in closer.

"And we lost it, slowly, softly, completely, madly..."

And he kissed her on the cheek. She breathed deeply, her throat as dry as a piece of parchment. He withdraw, his lips trembling from the sweet taste.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his eyes averted.

She saw one way. A tiny, glimmering dot of light that could possibly work in all of this disaster and failure. His aimless ranting and this entire threat would be a mere memory.

"Yes," she breathed.

His excitement was obvious. Even with a man of his intelligence, she could tell he was having trouble keeping himself in control. This was obviously a man who could be taken advantage of. So she had to play along as long as she needed to, and then strike.

He moved behind her, unwrapping the ropes from the beam. She nearly fell once the ropes became slack, but he was there to catch her bonded body.

She looked up at the man, her eyes as big and surprised as she could make them. She struggled only a bit in the ropes and his arms because she knew it would drive him crazy. Predictably, it did. He was not good at hiding his emotions, especially in his eyes. His eyes were wild.

He let her fall to the floor, knowing that she was nearly impervious to any pain that the action might cause. She twisted just so slowly in the bonds, letting her chest rise and accent her breasts. They were full and supple, and the bonds pulled the remains of her shirt out of the way. She was incredibly sexy like this, and she knew it. It was working.

He fell to his knees and let his hands across her smooth, nearly naked top. they felt her breasts, almost gently and with respect. He traveled up to her heck, and brushed against her flawless skin.

And then he leaned back in and kissed her on the lips.

She closed her eyes. She knew this was where she would get him. There would be nothing that would win his trust more than the greatest kiss of his life.

Their tongues mingles, the chemistry sparked, and their mouths locked in an amazing and full kiss. She was putting all of the effort that she could into one kiss - every physical, mental, and spiritual gesture, motion, and thought. She was giving him every signal she could. she was telling him that she was in love with him.

And slowly, he broke it, as if he knew that he shouldn't let it last too long. He was guilty, she could see, for forcing her into his demands. She could see it in his retreat. She was successful.

She moved herself up and down on the floor, to make herself at least somewhat comfortable. She pulled at the bonds on her wrists slightly, just enough to make sure he saw.

She smiled. To him, it was a green light. To her, it was victory.

"Is that it?" she said. And with that, she knew, the rest of the night would be a piece of cake.

They were in full lip-lock, biting and nipping and pulling playfully. His hands crossed her bondage slowly and crossed the curves and waves of her body, and she pulled and moved against her ropes as much as she could so that she rubbed against his. Again, he was pulling back.

"Come back," she said. "Come back for more."

He breathed slowly, putting down his palms onto the warehouse floor. We was as if he was a superhero, hit with a piece of Kryptonite in the chest. Love was his weakness.

He breathed madly through his nose, moving his head.

She let him stew for a minute, and then said nquietly, "Let my hands free."


His eyes jumped up to hers. They were mad with delight. They moved and flitted with energy and insanity.

"Free my wrists. I want you. Let me come to you."

He moved forward, kissing her madly once again, pulling her up and into his body and moving his arms behind her. He pulled off the ropes off of her torso first, throwing it aside.

Then he moved down to her hands, which were neatly tucked by her firm, nestled behind (a nice touch, she thought). And he pulled the rope free, slowly discarding it.

She moved her hands from behind her back, slowly wrapping themselves around his head. They continued to kiss for a moment, and she caressed his hair.

Then she grabbed his head with a sudden movement and...crack.

Rosnin's body suddenly fell slump against hers, and the kissing stopped. She had knocked his head against hers, which was effectively like slamming it into a brick wall.

She let his body fall onto the floor as she moved sideways and unwrapped the bonds down her legs. she still couldn't break the rope, but it was easy enough to untie.

Then she stood up, and she gathered all of the rope scatted about. Then she flopped over Rosnin's body, feeling his jacket for anymore.

She removed a few more coils and then looked at it for a moment.

I guess I'll keep it, she thought. It might come in handy someday. She walked over to Rosnin and tied him loosely to the same beam she was tied to.

I better get back to the apartment and call the police, she thought. They'll take care of this.

She walked over to the warehouse door and looked across the waterfront, which lead to the city. Out there was Rosnin's evil new Super Metal. Now villains would be able to tie her up easily and she could very well lose a fight in the future, if she wasn't careful.

She was barely clothed at this point, but the cold no longer bothered her. She looked back down at the unbreakable rope in her hands, sighed, and then jumped, flying off into the night sky.